Special report | Oliver Irizarry's story of boyhood pain

Liz Freeman

2:38 PM, Jul 4, 2014

Corey Perrine

Corey Perrine/Staff (2) Kimberly Irizarry, from left, kisses her son Oliver Irizarry, 6, as occupational therapist Linda Palermo looks at his leg and nurse practitioner Kimberly Brown looks at family during Oliver’s checkup in February at Tampa General Hospital. The family made the 2 1/2-hour drive for Oliver’s green compression shirt, used to curb friction with his clothes.

COREY PERRINE

Mesh patterns from skin grafts were visible in February on Oliver’s chest and shoulder. He has spent months on the mend from second- and third-degree burns to his left arm, chest, shoulder, neck and face.
Mesh patterns are seen from skin grafts on Oliver's chest and shoulder Feb. 25, 2014 at home in Golden Gate Estates, Fla. The family traveled 2.5 hour drive to Tampa General Hospital earlier that day for a check up. Oliver describes the incident as he though he might die. Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a turkey fryer Christmas Day 2013 at

COREY PERRINE

With bills strewed out on the bed for the first time, Kimberly Irizarry, stares at Oliver, innocently playing a video game April 24, 2014 at their home in Golden Gate Estates, Fla. "It doesn't matter how much it cost, as long as he's okay," Kimberly said. Today marked the first day Kimberly began opening the inevitable pile of bills to be faced. She said she was reluctant to open them because the focus needed to be on "helping him heal" rather than worrying about "something that will always be there." Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a

COREY PERRINE

At the center of attention, Oliver Irizarry talks with his peers before class March 10, 2014 at Corkscrew Elementary in Golden Gate Estates, Fla. This was Oliver's second day back at school, first full day in the classroom (the previous Friday the class went on a field trip). Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a turkey fryer Christmas Day 2013 at his uncle's house in Golden Gate Estates. Oliver was flown by helicopter to Tampa General Hospital's burn unit where he received skin grafts from his left thigh in a 14-day recovery period. Although

COREY PERRINE

Eddie Irizarry carries Oliver, fresh out of the bathtub, to dress his wounds Feb. 25, 2014 at their home in Gold Gate Estates, Fla. Dressing wounds is a twice-a-day occurrence, morning and night. Oliver's thigh was grafted to help heal other wounds to his chest arm, shoulder and face. Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a turkey fryer Christmas Day 2013 at his uncle's house in Golden Gate Estates. Oliver was flown by helicopter to Tampa General Hospital's burn unit where he received skin grafts from his left thigh in a 14-day recovery period.

COREY PERRINE

Oliver yells in pain as his wounds are dressed by his father, Eddie Irizarry, Feb. 25, 2014 at their home in Golden Gate Estates, Fla. Kimberly, Oliver's mom, describes it as a "blood curdling scream." Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a turkey fryer Christmas Day 2013 at his uncle's house in Golden Gate Estates. Oliver was flown by helicopter to Tampa General Hospital's burn unit where he received skin grafts from his left thigh in a 14-day recovery period. Although now on Medicaid, the family did not have medical coverage at the time and

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In awe of the spectacle in a air-blown ticket booth, Oliver Irizarry, tries to gather as many as he can May 9, 2014 at Chuck E. Cheese's in Naples, Fla. Despite turning 7-years-old two days earlier, the Irizarry family planned for a Saturday to celebrate Oliver's birthday with friends and family. Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a turkey fryer Christmas Day 2013 at his uncle's house in Golden Gate Estates. Oliver was flown by helicopter to Tampa General Hospital's burn unit where he received skin grafts from his left thigh in a 14-day

COREY PERRINE

Eddie and Kimberly Irizarry let the thoughts of how large a medical bill sink in April 24, 2014 at their home in Golden Gate Estates, Fla. Today marked the first day Kimberly began opening the inevitable pile of bills to be faced. She said she was reluctant to open them because the focus needed to be on "helping him heal" rather than worrying about "something that will always be there." Oliver Irizarry, then 6, burned 20 percent of his body after running his bicycle into a turkey fryer Christmas Day 2013 at his uncle's house in Golden Gate Estates. Oliver was flown by helicopter to Tampa

COREY PERRINE

NAPLES, Fla. - Seven-year-old Oliver Irizarry is getting to be a kid again.

His gangly legs stick up in the air as he shows off, upside down on the sofa, in his family’s home in Golden Gate Estates. A bandage wraps around his entire upper left thigh. He tells his mother he’s hungry.

Kimberly Irizarry, 39, looks calmly at her son, who has a slight lisp and long brown eyelashes. She offers a banana.

She could scold Oliver for his antics on the sofa, but deep down, she’s pleased.

Her daredevil of a son has spent months on the mend from second- and third-degree burns to his left arm, chest, shoulder, neck and face. A horrific Christmas Day accident could have been deadly.

Oliver was riding his new bicycle at his uncle’s home when he skidded off the driveway and hit a turkey fryer. Boiling peanut oil splashed and scalded 20 percent of his body.

He spent 14 days in Tampa General Hospital’s burn unit. Bandages over his raw flesh had to be changed daily. He required skin graft surgery.

“In the hospital, they gave him morphine to do bandage changes,” his mom said. “It would take three of us to hold him down.”

Witnessing his pain was torture for his parents, especially during dressing changes.

“He knew why we had to do it,” Oliver’s father, Eddie Irizarry, 41, said. “Any second he is in pain is an eternity.”

When Oliver came home Jan. 8 from the Tampa hospital, it was like a prison. The kid who normally can’t get enough of playing outside was confined indoors. When he returned to first grade at Corkscrew Elementary School in early March, he couldn’t participate in physical education.

Today, six months after the accident, Oliver still is waiting for freedom to play outside again.

“He’s a monkey,” his mother said. “He’d climb the walls if we would let him.”

Oliver reacts quickly.

“Which you don’t,” he said.

The Christmas Day nightmare

Oliver couldn’t wait to ride the new black bicycle he got for Christmas.

He took it with him to his uncle’s house nearby in the Estates to show his 10-year-old cousin, Marcial.

The first of several turkeys was in a fryer on a stand in the driveway for a family feast.

“We have been frying turkeys for 20 years,” Kimberly Irizarry said.

After the first bird was cooked, she and her husband left to deliver it to friends a few blocks away. Oliver and his older brother, Mateo, 15, and his sister, Nyla, 12, stayed behind.

Oliver, 6 at the time, didn’t think about his new bike only having hand brakes when he and his cousin decided to race. He didn’t stop, skidding into the turkey fryer.

“My brother-in-law saw it happen in an instant,” Oliver’s mother was later told. “He grabbed Oliver before the fryer fell over on him.”

Even so, boiling oil splashed the boy’s new Christmas shirt and chest, his neck, the left side of his face and left arm all the way down to his hand. Only his pinky was spared.

His parents received a frantic call to hurry back. Pulling into the driveway, Eddie Irizarry saw the looks on everyone’s faces. He will never forget the sound of his son’s wails.

“I could just see the skin hanging off his chest,” Eddie Irizarry said. “I was, ‘What do I do?’ ”

Oliver thought he was dying.

“I was screaming so bad,” he said.

Paramedics knew the burns were grave. Oliver was taken by ambulance to Big Corkscrew Fire Department on Immokalee Road, where a medical helicopter landed to take him to the trauma unit at Lee Memorial Hospital in Fort Myers. His mother rode with him.

The trauma team examined Oliver and said he needed a burn unit. So he was flown to Tampa General Hospital.

“That’s when I lost it because I was by myself,” Oliver’s mother said. “They told me I couldn’t fly with him and my phone had died.”

After pleading, she was given the OK to be in the helicopter. Her husband drove back to Naples to get the older kids. The family needed to be together in Tampa. They had no idea what might happen.

“All I could think of was the pain he was in,” Eddie Irizarry said. “I wish I could have taken all the pain way.”

The family’s 2-hour drive to Tampa was excruciating.

Family’s life changed that day

Life became hectic traveling between Naples and Tampa. Bosses had to be called. The older kids had schedules.

Kimberly Irizarry is an installation coordinator for Best Home Services in Bonita Springs. Her husband does pool service for Stahlman Pool Co. in Naples.

“Both of our jobs were very understanding,” she said. “They paid us like we were still there.”

Two strips of skin, 3 inches wide and a foot in length, were removed from his inner left thigh and grafted to the injuries.

He was confined to his hospital bed. When he began to itch — a sign of healing — he wanted to scratch over the bandages. He was miserable.

“You feel helpless because there is nothing you can do,” his mother said.

Oliver was discharged home Jan. 8. His mother worried about doing the dressing changes on their own.

She and her husband learned to put Oliver in the bathtub to loosen the gauze material so it wouldn’t stick to his skin. They let him dry naturally on the bed because using towels would hurt. She applied the medicated cream and her husband did the bandaging.

“I’m an expert,” he said. “I can wrap anything.”

School is no fun

Oliver’s first-grade teacher felt sick to her stomach when she heard about the accident.

So his teacher, Susan Fialko, volunteered to be Oliver’s home-bound teacher. She was stunned by how pale and frail he had become.

“He’s not a fragile kid. He is a very, very well coordinated kid,” she said. “I can almost see with the accident he must have been thinking about something else.”

At first he couldn’t concentrate on school work — distracted by the pain and itchiness — but it got better over the seven weeks of home schooling. He was back to his amazing math skills.

A milestone was a trip back to Tampa in early March, when doctors cleared Oliver to go back to school. But he couldn’t go to physical education class or ride the school bus, where he could get jostled accidently.

That was tough for his teacher to see. She would send him to the computer or art room during P.E., and kept him in the classroom after school until his mother picked him up.

“He’s the kid near the back of the room rocking in the chair to see how far back he can go,” she said. “It’s hard to contain that energy.”

The bills pour in

The hospital bills started coming in like a tidal wave.

Kimberly Irizarry didn’t open the bills for a month after bringing Oliver home. When she pulled out the stack, the first bill was for $97,000.

One by one she opened the invoices. They added up to $137,000.

“That’s like a house,” she said.

The family doesn’t have medical insurance.

Oliver is on Medicaid now, but his enrollment happened after the hospitalization. A caseworker is helping his parents understand the billing confusion.

“There’s nothing we can do,” his mother said. “It’s more important for me to pay for what I can pay for.”

A fundraiser held May 17 at the Florida Sports Park with a barbecue, auction and raffle prizes and kids’ entertainment drew about 100 people and netted $4,000. There still is a GoFundMe.com account.

“I’m famous,” Oliver said.

It’s no surprise that he didn’t like staying inside for most of the fundraiser. But an accidental kick in his leg during soccer dampened his spirits. He was limping by the end of the day.

There has been one blessing from the accident: Oliver is no longer the little brother that Nyla and Mateo brush off, their father said.

“They play with him more than they ever did before,” he said. “With him being this young, it is their little brother and anything can happen to any one of us. Family is important.”

Nyla’s room was once off limits; now Oliver is allowed in her sanctuary.

“I’ll put on a show (on TV) or sometimes we just mess around,” she said. “If I say something bad to him, I feel bad.”

He’s been allowed in the family pool briefly with his father and is ecstatic.

“You kind of have to pick your battles,” his mother said.

For the longest time he knew not to ask when he can start riding his bike again.

“He knows it’s not something he can do or we will let him,” she said.

He goes into the garage to look at it. He tried recently to blame his older brother for the bike being moved into the garage, but his parents were skeptical. They know he can’t get it out of the garage without help.

“The bicycle is waiting to be ridden,” his father said.

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